


he missed his pretty red lips

by Headfirst_for_halos



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Experimental, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Poetry, Sexual, frustrated kind of, romantic style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Headfirst_for_halos/pseuds/Headfirst_for_halos
Summary: I swear I'd let you destroy me. If only you'd ask.





	he missed his pretty red lips

He wanted to see him.

Always wanted to see him.

Find him, inside the mess.

He missed his pretty shoulders,

his pale hands.

His red lips.

He missed the skin on skin, even more than anything else in his life, he missed that skin.

He was bliss and satisfaction.

Not quite contentment, but close.

Almost like the smell of grass.

He wanted to rub his face against his throat. Forever.

Wanted to smell him, wanted to never smell anything else.

Wanted to bite,

bite harder than he'd ever hit anyone.

Louder than he'd ever screamed

and more honest than he'd ever been.

He wanted warm blood around his mouth,

on his teeth,

on his nose.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to make someone scream.

He wanted to break someone.

Destroy something beautiful, and leave a pretty bruise.

He wanted that bruise. Wanted it on his skin so bad.

Wanted it to burn him alive.

Wanted to get lost in it.

He wanted to scream, he wanted the pain,

he wanted pretty hands clutching on shoulders.

Wanted pretty hands doing ugly things.

Wanted everything.

He wanted his legs around someone, around something warm.

So close.

So close.

He wanted to grip tighter and tighter.

He wanted to rip up someone's soul and hide in it.

Shreds left and heartbeats and nothing else.

Beating so fast.

So close.

So fast.

The sweat between them sticking them together,

close.

And he can't see.

Can't keep his eyes open,

can't keep them from rolling back,

he is so fucking close.

So fucking tight.

And the way he moves.

The way he moves.

The way he's moving.

Like he hates him. Like he loves to hate him.

Like he doesn't want to do anything else.

Forever.

It's so warm,

and he feels so good.

So good.

So fucking good.

And good and hot and sweaty.

Beating, his blood pumping in

and out

and in

and out

and in

and out

so close and he wants to scream.

Wants to scratch and beat and bite and scream. He can't move but he can't stop moving.

He wants nothing.


End file.
